I take their life. At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade. Something namelessly abhorrent in the eyes of those men…! She knew what arms were for—to fold and embrace and to hold one tightly; but why men wished to kiss women was still a profound mystery. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. Don’t be frightened, dear. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing. “I have never seen him in my life,” she said to the official. ‘Please to sit, monsieur. ” He was suddenly resentful.
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